Her Piano
by EstellaB
Summary: Beth is trying so hard to play, but her fingers can't move that fast any more. Slightly post Little Women, but pre Good Wives.


**Beth is trying to play the piano, but her hands can't move that fast any more. Set very soon after the end of the first book.**

**If you espy any Anglicisms, please let me know-it's my major grammatical fault when writing :D (My literary faults are far worse and more numerous, but also harder to fix).**

Beth sighed and bit the inside of her cheeks as she moved her fingers over the ivory keys of her baby piano, trying to play her favorite piece of music. It was so hard to see her hands still wasted from the fever, unable to play even a a simple scale without faltering and stumbling, feeling as though her fingertips had been dipped in scalding water. And now she was trying to play her most beloved hymn, yet her fingers were no longer fully under her control. She felt hot tears splash on those useless hands as she struck two keys at the same time, a discordant noise ringing through the room. Briefly, she considered not playing at all, not wishing to ruin the contentment that had reigned in the house since Christmas. She bit her cheek harder, trying to stem the tears, for after all what was _music _when you had been granted, against all odds, the chance to live? It was horrid not to be able to play, but almost worse to feel so petty and selfish.

Trying to overcome those belittling feelings, trying to feel a little more selfless, Beth changed to Jo's favorite song, easier but also faster than before. Her fingers-now numb from trying to play for far too long-made the beautiful music sound hackneyed and tired. She paused for an instant, and tugged impatiently on the end of one of her plaits. Instantly she regretted doing so, for it sent tiny sparks of pain running through her left arm. When she tried to recommence playing, her hands were even more unwilling than before. Defeated, she began to close her music, when a voice interuppted her.

"Don't stop playing, Beth dear; you were doing jolly nicely before you began to bully yourself." Laurie settled himself next to her and opened her music book again. "It's easier like this," he added, beginning, without any other sort of ceremony, to play the right-hand section of the piece, leaving her to play only with her left hand. At first, she felt extremely uncomfortable and embarrassed. Her piano stool was not that large, and Laurie, in contrast, was getting taller and bulkier by the day. Seeing nothing to do but comply, however, she began to play the left notes clumsily. "Just a temporary arrangement, you know, until your fingers remember," he clarified over the music, with a companionable smile, and she smiled back, feeling a little more at ease.

"Sometimes I wonder if it would be better if I didn't play at all," she confided, confident that no-one else would be able to hear her over their cheerful playing. "I don't want to disturb people."

"They would only be upset if you didn't play," he replied, entirely accurately. "They were scared for so long that they would lose these hands for good, that, believe me, they don't mind an off note now and then." He took her free right hand in his free left hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Our Bethy," he added.

Beth blushed, because nobody but Jo ever called her that, and it spoke of a far greater closeness than she really felt she deserved. She touched the wrong key for the first time in several bars. He wasn't her Teddy, even if sometimes she felt like he might be, and it was Jo's hand he was supposed to be holding.

It was Jo's hand he was supposed to be holding, but it wasn't, and perhaps that's why, when Jo came into the room and saw her boy and her Bethy playing her song, Beth felt suddenly guilty. Perhaps that's why, at the same instant, when Laurie stopped playing halfway through a bar and abandoned the piano completely, she told herself there had been more than enough music for that evening, and stopped with an air of finality. Certainly, it is why, after that evening, she never let him play along with her again, because she could never have lived whilst jealous of her Jo.

She didn't play the piano so often after that evening, though, they noticed.

**Ta-dah! I present a Bethrie fic! I'm totally unhappy with the ending, but I had to get it done before November, so I'm putting up here and welcoming criticism... though flames will be laughed at/used to ignite Mary Sues.**


End file.
